


Something like happiness

by Bucky_barnes_in_eyeliner



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Hogwarts Eighth Year, M/M, Nightmares, Post-Battle of Hogwarts, Thestrals, What am I doing, adding as i go along, not sure how to tag, oh well
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-08-15
Updated: 2017-01-04
Packaged: 2018-08-08 20:20:56
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 7,674
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7771792
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bucky_barnes_in_eyeliner/pseuds/Bucky_barnes_in_eyeliner
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>All Harry wants for his final year at Hogwarts, is to keep his head down and make sure he gets the right NEWTs to be an Auror, but Harry never has had a normal year at Hogwarts, and this is no exception.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hey, this is my first fic and it hasn't been beta'd, so please feel free to point out any mistakes I've made, it would be greatly appreciated!

**_September 1st ,1998_ **

 

It was strange, to be stepping through the barrier, on to platform nine and three-quarters; strange, because it was such a familiar process, yet somehow this year it felt wrong. As soon as the Hogwarts express came into view, Harry felt an overwhelming sense of dread churning in the pit of his stomach. He wasn't supposed to be stood here; not when so many others couldn't be. His eyes darted around the platform, the scene around him seemed like a twisted caricature of the one he was so used to. Harry was surrounded by sombre faces, the usual excitement was replaced with looks of fear. 

Harry could feel the uncomfortable weight of Ginny's hand in his own, and wondered if coming back to Hogwarts really was the right idea. He was vaguely aware of Ginny squeezing his hand, but his gaze was drawn to the figures in front of him.

It was unnerving just how much Dennis Creevey looked like his older brother, the exact same shade of mousy brown hair, same eyes, Dennis even had his brothers old camera hanging from his neck. Harry could have believed that Collin was still alive, even if it was just for a moment, but the fantasy fell short as he watched Collins mother pull her only surviving son into a bone crushing embrace.

"You come back to me" the woman whispered fiercely into Dennis' ear "you come back"  

Those three words acted as some sort of catalyst to Harry's heart break; and he had to bite down hard on the inside of his cheek. If he focused on the pain, then perhaps the image of the Creevey's grief stricken faces might disappear.

Harry pulled away from Ginny, and ran a shaky hand through his constantly unruly hair. His breath was ragged, and his heart was racing. It was almost laughable, considering that only five months previously Harry had defeated the darkest wizard of his time,but now could barely even set foot on a train. That was when he felt a strong hand resting on his shoulder.

"Mate, is everything alright?" Ron said, in a low tone, intended only for Harry. Next to him stood Hermione, concern evident in her expression.

And what was he supposed to say? That he couldn't do it? That the mere idea of going back for another year terrified him? That sometimes when he was alone with his thoughts he wondered if he should have stayed dead? No; he was supposed to say he was fine, that he just hadn't slept well, that by the time they got to Hogwarts he would feel better. So that's what he did, and hoped the lie sounded more believable then it had in his head.

                                                                                 --------

Much like kings cross, the atmosphere was subdued in the great hall, every conversation was held with an edge of uncertainty. By the looks of things Harry wasn't the only one that was unsure how to proceed after the events of last year. It seemed as if the castle its self was trying its best to dispel the thoughts of fear from the minds of Hogwarts students. The sky in the great hall was crisp and clear, awash with constellations and shooting stars. The welcoming feast was over the top and extravagant. Even the house banners seemed brighter.

A quick glance behind his shoulder told Harry that the Slytherin table seemed depleted, with only a handful of the students from his year returning. Harry recognised the flash of pale blonde hair as belonging to Draco Malfoy, who was sat at a distance from the rest of the Slytherin students, with only Blaise Zambini and Pansy Parkinson to join him in his isolation. 

The ice seemed to be melting by the time it came to the sorting, with each house cheering on their new additions with increasing enthusiasm. Harry was reminded of when he was sorted, and felt a twinge of sadness. Even then things had been simpler. He sighed, and tried to focus on the next first year stepping up to be sorted. It was a small blonde girl, who's hands shook lightly, with what was most likely fear. The hat rested on her head for several moments, as she nervously looked around the hall. 

The hat seemed to be contemplating for a moment, before crying out "SLYTHERIN!"

A silence stretched out across the great hall, and the previous uncertainty crept in once again. This was the first of the new students to be sorted into Slytherin and no one was sure how to react. Even the Slytherin table seemed bewildered by what was happening. The girl sat frozen on the stall, her eyes wide with shock as she looked down at the Slytherin table. Hagrid's words echoed in Harry's head.

" _there's not a single witch or wizard who went bad that wasn't in Slytherin._ "

He shook his head, as if trying to rid himself of the thought. She was only a child.

The first person to applaud was Draco Malfoy, and for a second it seemed as if no one would join him. Then slowly, as if they hadn't celebrated in a long time the rest of the Slytherin table began to cheer. Relief spread across the girls face, as she timidly stepped down to join her house mates. Harry wasn't sure what  happened next, but it seemed as if the relief was infectious, as soon the entire hall was filled with applause.

                                                                                --------

"I'm sure many of you may have guessed by now," McGonagall said, to a gathering of all the 8th year students "that things will be different to what you have become accustomed to over the years, in regard to your living situations." she paused for a moment before continuing "It has been decided amongst the governors and i, that all 8th year students will be sharing a dorm on the third floor."

Looking around the room, Harry was greeted by a sea of confused faces, bar the trio of Slytherin students, who looked positively disgusted by the suggestion. McGonagall continued. 

"It has also been decided, that in order to promote house unity, in both the male and female areas, there will only be two sleeping quarters. One will contain Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw students, the other Slytherin and Gryfindor. There will also be a communal common room, it is hoped that by doing this, you will all provide good examples of house unity to the lower years."

The end of McGonagalls speech, was met with cries of outrage and shock from the students. It was predominantly Gryffindor and Slytherin students that had discrepancies with the idea.

"Professor... surely you can't expect for us to share a room with _Gryffindors!?_ " exclaimed an aghast looking Draco Malfoy "My father w-" He managed to stifle the rest of the sentence, but it was clear what he had been about to say. It was common knowledge that Lucius Malfoy currently resided in Azkaban, and a handful of 8th years snigered at Draco's faux pas. 

"I'm afraid, Mr. Malfoy" McGonagall said drily "that i can, and do expect you to share a room with your Gryffindor peers. You will of course have access to you houses common rooms, but will need to return to your sleeping quarters by a ten o'clock curfew." It was clear everyone was still stunned by the revelation. "Is that all?".

With that, McGonagall bid everyone goodnight, leaving Professor Slughorn to lead the 8th years to their dorm.

                                                                              --------

The 8th year common room was surprisingly comfortable, with armchairs and sofas placed strategically around the room. One wall was taken over entirely by books, something that both Hermione, and the Ravenclaws were bound to adore. As soon as Hermione spotted the bookshelf, her glee became very apparent.

"Ron look! Some of these books aren't even in the library!" Ron was abruptly pulled over to browse the selection of books even further, something he would resent, if anyone but Hermione had made him do it. In his defence, if he was feigning interest, he was doing it very well. This left Harry to fend for himself, in the new territory they had discovered. He decided that joining Seamus and Dean as they went to explore their sleeping area was the best bet. 

The first thing Harry noticed when he went up to his room, was that Blaise Zambini and Draco Malfoy had positioned themselves in the two beds closest to the door. _Ron must have been up already_   Harry thought to himself, when he saw Ron's belongings sprawled haphazardly across one of the beds. That left Harry in the bed closest to Draco's. It was clear that no one was thrilled by the 8th year arrangements, and having to be next to Malfoy was only salting the wounds.

As he got himself ready to go to sleep, Harry couldn't quite quash the feeling that by sharing with Slytherins, he was curling up with a nest of vipers. Despite his apprehensions, he quickly settled into his new bed, and drifted into sleep, as he listened to the sound of Ron's soft snores.

Like so many of the dreams Harry had been having, this one quickly changed. The once bright colours suddenly became dark, and the walls of his dream world began to constrict around him. The place he was in looked like a church, however the congregation had long since vanished, and instead they were replaced with hooded figures. Harry was frozen in place. Slowly the figures rose from their pews, and encircled him. As the men shapes in hoods moved closer, Harry was greeted by a familiar pair of blood red eyes.

Harry inhaled sharply, and sat bolt upright in his bed. He was covered in a sheen of sweat, and his heart pounded against his rib cage. He tried to regain control of his breathing, and began to look around the room, reassuring himself that he was safe, that no one could harm him. As Harry focused on his surroundings, he heard a soft whimpering sound coming from the bed besides him.

It was Malfoy. He too was soaked in a layer of sweat, and was tossing and turning in his sheets. The blonde boys breathing was ragged, and Harry felt a twinge of pity. It was without really thinking that Harry got out of his bed, and lightly shook Malfoy awake. The other boy quickly came to his senses, and grabbed onto Harry's arm, almost as if it were a blanket. Draco's hers were wide open and stared directly into Harry's own.

Malfoy's facial expression was cold and callous as Harry lifted his hand away from his skin "tell anyone about this Potter, and i will kill you" Draco spat, in what seemed to be the most venomous tone he could muster at such a strange hour. Despite his hostile nature, Malfoy still looked shaken as Harry crawled back into bed.

Harry gave an indignant huff "You know what Malfoy, next time i won't help you" he said, his voice laced with annoyance. As Harry turned on his side to go back to sleep, he couldn't help but wonder what it was that had scared Malfoy so much.  


	2. Chapter 2

**September 8th, 1998**

 

Harry was lying on the Gryffindor sofa with his head in Ginny's lap, as she toyed absent-mindedly with his hair. It was loud in the Gryffindor common room, and Seamus was taking bets on something, with a bottle of fire whisky being passed around the small crowd surrounding him. With his eyes closed Harry could almost pretend that everything was peaceful, and that the hands combing through his hair belonged to someone else.

It was strange how it had dawned on him so suddenly after the battle of Hogwarts that he didn't want to be with Ginny. It couldn't be said that he didn't love her, because he did. He cared deeply for Ginny, but no matter how hard he tried, he couldn't make himself fall in love with her. There were times when Harry had thought he might break if he didn't come clean about his true feelings, but then he imagined the disappointed looks on the Weasleys faces, and his heart would ache. He couldn't do it, especially not to Molly, not when she had lost so much already.

There was also the fear that if things deteriorated with Ginny, Harry might lose his friendship with Ron altogether. If there was one thing Harry couldn't risk loosing, it was his friends. Without them, he wasn't really sure if he had anything left.

For the most part, Harry was able to push his doubts to the back of his mind, and convince himself that he would be miserable without Ginny, but there were times when his efforts didn't prevail.

It was times like that, where Harry had to pretend he didn't wish that Ginny's chest (which he saw so many people appreciating) was flatter, that her body felt harder and more angular against his own. He certainly didn't wish that when Ginny kissed him, she had a few days worth of stubble on her jaw. 

It was someone's voice that snapped him abruptly out of his thoughts.

"Come on lovebirds, stop staring into each others eyes come and watch Seamus! He's about to hex himself a tail." came Ron's voice from the other side of the room. 

Harry rolled his eyes at his best friend, and ambled over to watch what was going on. He joined in with the laughter, and cheered Seamus along in his drunken attempts to entertain the Gryffindor tower. It was only Hermione that seemed to notice that Harry's mind was elsewhere, and that despite all of the laughter, Harry's smile didn't quite reach his eyes. 

                                                                                --------

Harry managed to escape Hermione's prying eyes at around 10 o'clock, muttering a weak excuse about the curfew. It was clear that McGonagall wasn't as hell bent on imposing a curfew as she had seemed, but for the time being, it would scrape by as a reasonable excuse.

As much as he loved Hermione, he wasn't quite ready to have a heart to heart with her about his feelings. He could barely even admit to himself some of his feelings existed in the first place.

It was proving hard to acclimatise to sharing a room with non-Gryffindors, especially since Harry had been sharing with same four people for six years. He had gotten used to the Gryffindor boys routines, and learnt to cope with all of their quirks an eccentricities. This new way of doing things still felt remarkably alien to everyone, and the atmosphere in the sleeping quarters was tense. Almost immediately an 'us and them' mentality had developed between the two clans.

Harry had tried his hardest to avoid any confrontations, but it was hard not to when the things he had done during the war were constantly used by his fellow Gryffindors as an excuse to hurl abuse at the two Slytherins. Predominantly Draco Malfoy. 

When the start of the new term commenced, most of the animosity Harry had felt towards Draco disappeared, instead morphing into pity. It must have been hard for him to be raised by sycophants of a sadistic megalomaniac; then again, Harry's childhood had been lost to said sadistic megalomaniac trying to kill him every bloody summer term.

Malfoy honestly did seem more subdued this term, only getting involved in arguments when necessary. Even then his retorts were half-hearted, and lacked any really venom. It was Blaise that seemed to carry the Slytherins on that front. _Perhaps Malfoy really was a reformed man_  Harry thought to himself  _or maybe with all of those nightmares he's just to tired to argue._ Either way, the changes were welcome.

Harry had hoped, when he arrived back at the 8th year rooms, he would be able to escape having to talk to anyone. After the war, Harry had begun to relish his rare moments of solitude. Defeating Voldemort shifted Harry from undesirable number one, to the most desired man in the wizarding community. He had been thrust once more into the spotlight, with newspapers eager to have an exclusive interview with the chosen-one, turned 'saviour of life as we know it' .

After everything he had gone through, couldn't he just be left to live out his life in peace?

                                                                 --------

A slow trickle of people were returning from their various houses when Harry arrived at the 8th year dorm. Blaise Zambini and Pansy Parkinson were walking in front of him, howling at some joke the two had between them. Harry tried to focus on what they were saying, but was instead drawn to the tall lean figure of Draco Malfoy.

It was the first time he truly looked at Malfoy since the belonging of the year. The blonde looked worse then he had in sixth year. His once fitted robes hung awkwardly, and the bags under his eyes were a dark and puffy. He looked like a ghost of the Malfoy Harry had grown so accustomed to.  Harry stood still and watched the other boy slide past the door to follow his friends.

When Harry finally gained the sense to mutter the password and enter the common room, he saw Pansy and Blaise huddled up by the fire place, whispering furiously to one another. Malfoy was not with them, which bothered Harry, as the only time he had seen the trio separated since term commenced, was when the two boys were sleeping.

Harry tried to ignore his worries about Malfoy, not wanting a repeat of sixth year, and went up to his sleeping quarters. They were empty, and Harry let out a sigh of relief. It was only then that he realised he had been holding his breath all the way up the stairs.

The soft sound of running water could be heard from the adjoining bathroom. Harry assumed it was Malfoy, and decided he would rather not risk being in the same bathroom as Malfoy for now, remember the events of sixth year. He cast a quick cleaning charm over himself, and crawled into bed.

Malfoy walked into the room just as Harry had gotten comfortable. The blond was buttoning up his pyjama top, his chest still exposed, Harry might have laughed at the fact they were silk, if he hadn't seen the jagged white scar running the length of the other boys chest. The scar he had given him. 

Harry could feel Malfoy's eyes on him, burning through his skin like hot coals, yet he still couldn't tear his eyes away from the scar. _I had to do it_   Harry thought, as if trying to convince himself. In a flash the scar was gone, Malfoy's nimble fingers hiding it with the buttons of those ridiculous pale grey silk pyjamas. Silk pyjamas that matched his eyes.

"Admiring your handiwork then Potter?" The blonde boy snapped "I'd show you the rest, but I'm not really in the mood to strip for you." Draco turned away, and Harry blushed at the implications of what he'd said.

_Fuck._

"I-I'm..." but the words died in his throat. What could he say to that? "for what it's worth Malfoy, I'm sorry" Harry said meekly.

Malfoy paused for a moment, his eyes narrowing "For what it's worth Potter, Fuck you."

Harry took that to mean that the conversation was over, and succumbed to his weariness, falling into an uneasy sleep. He didn't have the energy to fight with Draco.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is a 3:30 am kinda chapter, so feel free to tell be if there is anything wrong!

  **September 18th, 1998**

At first Harry found it hard to eat in the Great Hall. An overwhelming sense of dread would take hold, and he would be forced to relive the night of the battle. It was like being in a pensive, but altogether more sinister. The first time it happened was the morning after the welcoming feast; his head swam with images of those that died in the battle, flickering to his memories of their bodies, strewn out across the cold stone floor of the Great Hall.

The worst was Fred, the echo of a smirk on his lips, yet his expression motionless, and his eyes glassy. He ran out of the Hall and was sick in the nearest bathroom. He hadn't known what to tell Ron and Hermione, later that day, so he told them nothing. Perhaps before the war they would have pressed for answers, but their wounds were still raw and Harry's disappearance had been left, if not unnoticed, then unmentioned.

It had been just over a fort night since then, and Harry had sparsely eaten in the great hall, instead choosing to go down to the kitchens. At first it had been a shock to the house elves, who squeaked and crowded around Harry, pulling nervously on their ears, but they had quickly adjusted to Harry's visits. Kreacher had taken to presenting Harry with a slice of treacle tart every time he came into the kitchens, something Harry found rather touching.

Harry sat on one of the four large tables in the kitchens that mirrored those directly above them. House elves hurried around him, carrying trays of food, which looked comically large in their tiny arms. He watched in slight awe as kreacher, with a click of his finger sent a tray of food up to its twin table above him. Magic still managed to amaze him. Harry resisted the urge to help with the carrying, not wanting to offend the creatures. He needed this safe haven; so instead he busied himself with his scrambled eggs.

Ron and Hermione were undoubtedly sitting above him, enjoying their breakfast, Ginny too. Ron was probably devouring his food with the etiquette of a cave troll. Hermione was probably reprimanding him. He knew for a fact that Neville was probably regaling the first years with a tale of his time leading the student militia, and how they combated the Carrows regime. The younger years loved Neville, who was always happy to entertain them; or aid them in their herbology work.

He couldn't think of what Ginny would be doing, and briefly wondered if that should concern him more than it did.

                                                         --------

In the 8th year common room, Hermione was curled up with Ron on one of the worn red sofas close to the fire. The book she read was thick and leather bound, titled 'The Phoenix throughout the ages' Harry thought he might recognise it from Dumbledore's study. He smiled at the sight of Ron, who sat snoring lightly besides Hermione.

"Harry!" Hermione exclaimed, nudging Ron awake. "is everything alright?" she fussed, her brows creasing in concern.

"I'm fine 'mione, i just went to check up on Kreacher, that's all. I'm worried everything that's been going on has taken a toll on him." Any one that had spoken to Kreacher would see just how transparent the lie was, truthfully the elf was in his element in the Hogwarts kitchens.

"Your mental mate" Ron said, shaking his head "I mean, it's nice and all, but haven't you got better things to do?"

It was then that Hermione found a secondary use for 'The Phoenix throughout the ages' and bashed Ron lightly on the shoulder.

"Be quiet Ronald. I think what your doing is very admirable, they deserve respect every bit as much as we do." Hermione said, shooting the ginger a rather pointed look.

Harry let out a sigh of relief, as the two began to bicker with one another. The distant sound of their 'debate' as they meandered down to the potions classroom made Harry feel as everything was back to normal.

                                                          --------

Harry had a sneaking suspicion that this was the first time Hermione had ever been late to a class, as she hurried over to a spare work bench, Ron trailing awkwardly behind her. Slughorn seemed not to have noticed, and only briefly acknowledged Hermione's apologies before turning to Harry.

"My dear boy!" he boomed "Do sit down now, i see we have a seat next to..." the professor scanned the room "ah Mr. Malfoy"

Ron sent Harry a sympathetic look as he dawdled over to his seat next to Malfoy, who seemed equally unimpressed by his Potions partner.

Harry spent the first half of the lesson letting Malfoy take charge of the potion, handing him the odd ingredient that he would trust Harry to get. He had been allowed for a minute, to stir the potion as the blonde fetched some supplies that they didn't have. The privileged was quickly revoked when Draco returned to find him stirring the potion the wrong way.

Eventually Draco acquiesced, letting Harry brew the second component of the potion. He was shocked to find that things were going well, and that he was actually enjoying brewing potions with Malfoy, of all people. The blonde had a certain ease about him when brewing potions, something about the way he did it was strangely graceful.

"I suppose i should congratulate you for not destroying anything yet Potter." Malfoy drawled, as he stirred the potion diligently.

Harry managed to hold back his grin when Professor Slughorn declared their potion the best, but only because he had noticed the soot covering Ron, and the look of rage on Hermiones face.

                                                            --------

Usually once Harry had finished his supper with the house elves, he would go up to the Gryffindor tower. Harry didn't know what was different about this particular Friday evening, but instead he opted to go to the library. He found himself sat in a window seat, on the library's second floor, hidden away behind some bookshelves. From the seat Harry had a perfect view of the Quiditch pitch, where it looked like the Slytherin team had begun practice.

It was strange, to be watching Quiditch and knowing that he wouldn't be playing this year, despite the fact Ron had practically begged him to stay on; he had decided to forgo his captaincy for 8th year. He supposed it would be unfair on Ginny if he stayed as captain of the team. He tried not to think about her. Harry wasn't sure how long he had been watching the Slytherins play but he could feel the presence of someone else behind him, his head snapped up to see who it was.

Malfoy.

Harry prayed the other boy would take a book and leave, so that he wouldn't be forced into any interaction with the blonde. When their eyes met, Harry knew he was out of luck.

"Potter" Draco grimaced, then began to speak quickly, a blush forming on his pale cheeks. "I realised I never said thank you, for what happened during the battle." The blonde hesitated for a moment "So... Thank you."

Harry gaped at Malfoy, taken aback by what seemed like heartfelt words. In retrospect it probably seemed rude, the fact that Harry could only manage a vacant yet surprised look for a long few moments after Malfoy had spoken. It was when the Slytherin turned on his heels to leave that Harry managed to speak.

"Why aren't you on the Slytherin team this year?" He blurted.

Malfoy turned to him, a sort of bemused smirk had settled on his face, as his eyebrow arched "Sorry Potter, i may have misheard you, but did you just bring up _Quiditch_ when i tried to thank you for the fact you saved my life?"

Harry gave an idle shrug "I was just curious, that's all."

The blonde let out a sigh "I haven't exactly been keen of flying since-" Malfoy stopped himself

"i understand." Harry nodded, memories of the fire flashing in his mind. Draco returned to his book hunt.

Harry wasn't sure as to why he spent the rest of the evening thinking about a certain blonde, or what that meant for the future.

 


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so sorry its been so long since i updated, but i finally have some free time! I'm hoping updates should be more regular - hope you enjoy.

**October 13 th, 1998**

 

It was unnaturally early when Harry woke up, the moons light illuminating the dorm. It was a full moon, and he couldn’t help but be reminded of Remus- Of Moony. Of the tiny bundle of blue hair that would grow up without a father or mother. Harry screwed his eyes shut, as if closing his eyes might dull the ache in his chest.

It didn’t.

Harry’s mind was bursting at the seams with unwarranted thoughts. Images of Ginny flittered across his mind, and overwhelmed him with guilt. Just the thought of hurting her made his chest tighten, and his breathe stick in his throat, but the thought of living through the last eighteen years, only to never truly be happy filled him with a whole new kind of fear.

All too quickly Harry felt trapped, as if the castles walls were closing in on him. He could hear his heart, feel it beating against his rib cage, as if trying to escape. He pulled his knees up to his chest. His breathing was rapid now. He closed his eyes again, desperately trying to get some air into his chest. It felt as if his lungs were filling with water. He was vaguely aware of the sobs escaping his lips, but that seemed irrelevant as he fought to regain control of his breathing, his head spinning.

And then there were arms around him. It was too much. He frantically tried to pull away, but the arms that had engulfed him were stronger.

“You’re okay Potter, I’ve got you” came a familiar voice, strong and soft in his ear. The tightening in his chest made it hard to think about who it was. “You’ve just got to focus on breathing. You can do that.”

Harry could feel himself shaking, panic rising in his chest.

“In and out Potter.” The tone was authoritarian, in contrast to its earlier softness.

Harry tried his best to follow the commands.

 Harry wasn’t sure how long it had taken before the panic began to subside and coherent thoughts began to form, but as they did, Harry became acutely aware of the person cocooned around him. At first, he thought it could be Ron, but a lack of Orange freckles quickly proved that it was someone else. For a moment, he thought it could be Neville – until he saw the faded dark mark on the other man’s arm.

He turned around quickly, grabbing is wand, casting a quick muffliato then pressing it to Draco’s throat “What the bloody hell did you just do to me Malfoy?” Harry hissed through clenched teeth.

The bleary-eyed look of shock quickly dissipated from the other man’s face, as he slowly backed away onto his own bed.

“You truly are as dim-witted as you look... That wasn’t magic Potter; what just happened to you.” Draco hesitated for a moment, as if debating whether to continue with what he was saying “The muggles call them panic attacks.”

As Harry briefly wondered why Malfoy knew or cared about what the muggles called anything, the blonde had pulled up his trunk, and looked to be searching for something. Underneath a stack of robes, was a neat line on tiny vials. Draco grabbed one triumphantly, and offered it to Harry with an outstretched hand.

“It’s a calming draught.” He said, spotting the look of apprehension on Harry’s face “Trust me. It helps.”

Harry tentatively took the vial, trying hard to swallow his uncorking the potion, and downing it in one. Despite its purple colouring, it had no taste. Immediately Harry, a wave of warmth washed over Harrys body. He could feel his muscles slowly starting to relax, and he sunk down into his mattress.

 “I’m going to sleep Potter, unless you want to attack me again?”

A thought crossed his mind, and he debated whether to question why Malfoy had so many calming draughts, or how he knew about muggle medicine, but instead, after a few long moments, he whispered a quick

"Cheers Malfoy".

His thanks went unnoticed, as the other man was already half asleep. A wave of relaxation washed over him once again, and instead of overthinking things, he let the potion take hold, and succumbed to an easy sleep. 

                                                                               --------

When Harry woke for the second time, light was just beginning to pour through the window directly in front of him. It couldn’t have earlier than seven o clock. It would be another hour before any of the others woke up. Harry sat up slowly, assessing his surroundings; his mind still clouded with sleep – with whatever Malfoy had given him earlier that morning.

Malfoy.

Harry groaned inwardly, the former death-eater’s bed was empty. The moment he realised Malfoy was gone, was the same moment in which he realised he would have to find him. He had to know what had happened to him, and why Malfoy of all people had known how to make it better. Harry took a deep breath, retrieving the Marauders map from his bedside draw.

To say the least, Harry was surprised to see that the other man was walking towards the forbidden forest. The thought of the forest left Harry’s heart beating hard in his chest, he had _died_ in those woods only five months prior. His mind was racing, what the hell could Malfoy want in those woods? Could he have somehow found out about the resurrection stone? Was he plotting something?

Harry knew that his increasing fear of anything war related was irrational, the war was over, people had fought and died to ensure it, however that knowledge didn’t stop his head from spinning every time he went up to the astronomy tower, or when someone used a green lighted hex. He could barely even look at the snowy owls in the owlery.

Harry quickly grabbed his cloak, and raced out of the 8th year common room, not bothering to change out of his pyjamas. He had to know what Draco was up to.

                                                                              ---------

Harry was at the opening of the forest when he caught sight of Malfoy, having practically sprinted across the Hogwarts grounds. It didn’t make sense for him to be scheming anything, given his demeanour this year, and what had seemed like genuine remorse during the trial; but Harry had to be certain. He took a deep breath, he just had to take one step and he would be in the forest.

Harry looked down at his hand, suddenly glad that he had bought the invisibility cloak; as it obscured his shaking wand hand from view.

With closed eyes Harry took his first step into the forest. His breath was ragged, and he could feel an unnamed sense of dread well in the pit of his stomach. His movements were slower now, so as not to alert Malfoy of his presence. The blonde had slowed now too, head turning to take in the surroundings. The other man looked as if he was searching for something, and Harry prayed silently he hadn’t been detected.

Harry was doing well, trailing his former nemesis without any slip ups. He was entirely undetectable, that was, until he tripped on the root of a tree, almost sending himself flying. Malfoy had turned around sharply at the sound, however Harry managed to remain hidden.

The pair stayed like that for what must have been five minutes, before Draco strayed from the beaten track, heading towards a clearing – the same one in which Harry had died.

It took several moments for him to return to his journey.

Harry couldn’t help but be reminded of when both boys had been sent into the forest as punishment together. Harry could barely remember why. He thought of how intimidating the forest had been then, in contrast to its current beauty; then he thought of Draco Malfoy, and then promised himself that his thoughts of the other man and beauty were entirely unrelated.

When Harry entered the clearing, for the first time that morning – his thoughts were not wholly transfixed of Malfoy. Instead his attention was drawn to the creatures in front of him.

A heard of Thestrals.

Malfoy must have had an enlargement charm on his pocket, as when he caught sight of the creatures, he immediately retrieved four or five dead pheasants from the pocket of his robes. Harry watched in awe as the Thestrals began to approach Malfoy. The blonde replied to their advances by throwing the dead pheasants towards them, and watching has he herd began to devour them.

One of the largest Thestrals walked confidently through the heard towards Malfoy, causing Harry to take a sharp intake of breath, and tighten his grip on his wand.

To Harry’s surprise, and slight relief, the Thestral made no move to attack Malfoy, instead lowering its head, as Malfoy raised his hand to stroke the beast. Watching this event play out in front of him, Harry was sure that this was the first time he had seen Malfoy smile all term.

Harry wasn’t sure just how long he stayed to watch Malfoy interact with the Thestrals, however he did know that this would not be the last time he would be doing so. He just hadn’t admitted it to himself yet.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry if this ones a little shoddy. It's late and revising had fried my brain.

**November 1 st 1998**

It was two in the morning and the unofficial Hogwarts All Hallows party was in full swing, as it had been for around four hours now. Harry didn’t think he had much chance of sleep. The party usually consisted of almost all the upper year students getting drunk out of their minds on fire whisky someone had diligently smuggled into the castle. Hermione pretended to disapprove, though Harry suspected she was no light weight when it came to alcohol.

Usually each house had an individual party, however in the spirit of 'inter-house unity' the houses had decided to combines efforts. McGonagall would have been proud. This year the party had been held in the eighth-year dorm, which was now currently filled with at least two hundred people, ranging from sixth year upwards, though it looked like several fifth years had snuck in.

Harry and Ron had helped smuggle everyone one in earlier in the evening, using the marauders map to warn when filch was approaching. Hermione had walked behind the pair, periodically chastising them. It had been close, and taken almost two hours, but people seemed to be enjoying themselves, so Harry supposed that there was no harm done.

Harry found himself in the corner of the room, wishing that he could crawl into bed. Getting up so early to watch Malfoy with the Thestrals was proving to be a tiring habit, as both were now supporting dark circles under their eyes.

Lazily, Harry glanced over the room, looking for something to ease the mind-numbing boredom threatening to take hold. His eyes landed first on Ginny, and for a moment he watched as she danced with Terry Boot. He hadn’t known the pair were friends, but judging by the way Ginny was moving against the Ravenclaw, they were closer than Harry had thought. Closer than Harry ought to like.

After a pause for thought, Harry realised he wasn’t jealous in the slightest. Slightly uncomfortable, perhaps – but not jealous.

Harry quickly averted his gaze.

He didn’t mean to be looking at Draco Malfoy, it was just that he was tired, and couldn’t quite find the energy to turn away. That was it. The blonde took an elegant sip from one of the champagne flutes a Greengrass sister had supplied, before his face screwed up in discomfort. Malfoy turned to Pansy in disgust.

Harry only just heard Draco’s disdainful cry of “Bloody Hell pans, the cheap cow bought non-vintage Bolly.”

Parkinson rolled her eyes at the comment “You know as well as I do that it’s Bollinger’s 1988 R.D, you’re just bitter that your Father is still dictating who you’re marrying from his cell.”

Harry edged closer to the conversation when he heard marriage being thrown into the equation. For a moment, he thought of Ginny and his chest tightened. For some reason, Harry was desperate to hear how Malfoy would reply, despite not being able to justify why to even himself.

Draco’s eyes narrowed “At least I’m not marrying some slimy Durmstrang git”

“Yes, but Draco dearest, at least he has a cock.” The Slytherin girl retorted.

Malfoy scowled at the comment “Pansy darling, remind me, your betrothed, is he a first or second cousin?”

Parkinson glared at Malfoy “Second” she said, sniffing a little.

Malfoy gave a smug smirk in light of his victory.

Harry’s brow furrowed in confusion. Hadn’t legislation been put in place to ban marriages arranged for purposes of blood purity? Surely the new guards at Azkaban would know if that’s what Lucius Malfoy was doing? The alcohol was making it hard for him to think straight. He made a mental note to ask Hermione about it when he was sober, before wandering off in search of a little more fire whiskey.

                                        -----------

It was Two thirty in the morning when Harry felt a pair of arms wrap around his waist. Ginny. Her lips were on his neck, and he could smell the fire whisky on her breath. He remained still. Harry was beginning to sober up, but Ginny was drunker then he had ever seen her.

Just when he thought that the night was beginning to wind down.

Harry could tell by the look on her face the he had done something wrong - again.

“Harry…” Ginny whined, pouting slightly “you haven’t spoken to me all evening, what’s your problem?” Her speech was slurred. “don’t you want me?"

Harry let out a sigh, wishing Ginny could have picked a better moment to have a go at him; preferably when the two of them weren’t in front of half the school. Preferably when she wasn’t ‘off-her-tit’s’ drunk. He looked quickly around the room, and one or two people had turned to see the dispute. Malfoy was staring intently in his direction, and Harry couldn’t help but shudder.

“Look, Gin… it’s just.” Harry paused, trying to come up with a reason “it’s just a hard time of year for me Gin, you get that right?” The excuse hadn’t been much of a lie. October the 31st for Harry was riddled with unfortunate events, he swallowed hard, briefly thinking of his Mother and father.

An emotion he couldn’t quite place his finger on hit him hard. His chest felt tight, he had to get out.

Ginny nodded indignantly “I just thought that maybe you could dance with me.” She said, with wide eyes.

Harry didn’t know what to say to her. He just wanted to leave. He knew that he would probably regret whatever it was he said next, but he had drunk enough to stop him from caring how many people saw, and who he offended.

“Really Gin? That’s strange, it looked like you were doing just fine dancing with Terry Bloody Boot.” His voice was raised, and by now most people had turned to see what was going on. “You were all over him!”

He couldn’t help but notice, despite his panic, that Malfoy had silently left the dorm.

Ginny’s bottom lip was shaking slightly, and Harry couldn’t tell if it was through anger or if she really was about to cry. He suspected the former, but didn’t wait to find out. He felt awful as soon as he had said it, but he’d needed a way to escape. He couldn’t bear to be around Ginny, not when it was such a sham.

He just hoped the fallout with the Weasley’s wouldn’t be too severe, and that Ron would forgive him quickly.

                                                            ----------

Harry didn’t really have a destination in mind when he had left the eighth-year dorm, but when he began to pay attention to his surrounding, he realised he was close to the room of requirements. He hadn’t been in the room since the battle.

He wasn’t sure what he had asked the room for, his thoughts had been muddled and incoherent, however he was sure that he had _not_ asked for anything remotely to do with Draco Malfoy. So why on earth was he asleep in what looked suspiciously like Harry’s favourite arm chair?

Just when he thought his evening couldn’t get any worse.

It was strange really, to see Malfoy asleep like that. He looked innocent, younger perhaps, like he wasn’t about to make a snide comment about Harry’s parents or appearance. Not that he had done so since before the war ended. Harry wondered if maybe he really had changed.

Harry had only been in the room for about five second when the blonde began to stir, unable to find the appropriate reaction, he quickly assumed a ‘deer in the headlights’ position. He suspected a strong hex would be coming his way when Malfoy woke.

After a long moment, Harry realised no such hex was coming his way, and let out a shaky sigh of relief. He was too tired to duel. He could barely bring himself to think of other times they had raised their wands at one another.

Draco squinted at Harry, unsure what to make of the other man in front of him. “Is this some sort of bloody nightmare?” Malfoy’s tone was accusatory.

Harry stood awkwardly, unsure how to reply, or what to do with his hands. Something about the way Malfoy was looking at him left him deeply uncomfortable, it was as if he was really looking at him, and not in the way same way the press scrutinized him. It was something Harry couldn't name. 

He quickly snapped out of the thought when Malfoy shifted in his seat.

Harry slowly shook his head. “No nightmare… the room let me in.” he paused for a moment, then said the first thing to come to mind “I had to get out of there.”

It seemed as if the other man had understood that, and gestured towards a worn-out looking red arm chair, opposite a fire that Harry could have sworn hadn’t been there a second ago. He considered thanking Malfoy, but saw that he was already engrossed in the days paper. He would have to get some sleep instead.


End file.
